"Some people get everything wrong. How can I explain? I mean, there are those who can have everything against them - three strikes, twenty strikes, for that matter - and they turn out fine. Make mistakes early on - dirty their pants in grade two, for instance - and then live out their lives in a town like ours where nothing is forgotten (any town, that is, any town is a place like that) and they manage, they prove themselves hearty and jovial, claiming and meaning that they would not for the world want to live in any place but this.
With other people, it's different. They don't move away but you wish they had. For their own sake, you could say. Whatever hole they started digging for themselves when they were young - not by any means as obvious as the dirty pants either - they keep right on at it, digging away, even exaggerating if there is a chance that it might not be noticed.
Things have changed, of course. There are counselors at the ready. Kindness and understanding. Life is harder for some, we're told. Not their fault, even if the blows are purely imaginary. Felt just as keenly by the recipient, or the nonprecipient, as the case may be.
But good use can be made of everything if you are willing."
from "Pride," Dear Life by Alice Munro
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